At First Chance
by Savdoll98
Summary: Margaret Hale never thought she would ever find happiness in the dirty, smokey Milton she now called home. Due to her own stubbornness, Margaret finds herself being saved by a tall, dark, handsome stranger. A shocking curiosity is awoken within her; one she cannot and would not ignore. Will she find her savior before it's too late? Margaret/Thornton retold.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hello there, fellow fanfiction-ers! My name is Sav, and this is my very first fanfiction. As you can guess, I'm currently obsessed with North and South the book. I've read (probably) every story posted on this site for N &S. The chance are, if you've written it, I've read it. And let me tell you, I'm so impressed with the level of maturity in these stories that I'm inspired to post my own. With that being said, if you read this, please review and tell me if I should continue with this. You can be mean if you'd like. I'm a tough girl, I can take it :). Well, here it goes! Happy Reading! -Sav_

Margaret Hale watched everything she knew fade into a seemingly distant memory as the train roared with speed. She was angry that she was leaving Helstone, but not angry at the reasoning behind it. On the contrary, she was quite proud of her father for standing by his morals. She admired his strength as she was sure it was a difficult decision that weighed on him heavily. She thought she could not make such a decision, surely.

She moved her gaze from the window to her father who sat across from her. As she studied his face, she recognized the deep lines that carved his features. His glasses sat on the edge of his nose while he peered down at his paper. He felt her gaze on him and looked up to meet the dark, shining eyes.

"Was there something you wanted to say, my dear?" He asked as she quickly found something else to look at.

"No. I was just admiring your wisdom. Though, you do seem tired. Should you not rest?" She replied, attempting to seem nonchalant. She worried for her father's health. The move to Milton was taking a toll on him, but he would never admit it.

"Do you mean my old age?" He laughed. "Surely, you do not find wisdom in these lines; however, they do hold many stories and secrets. Perhaps what you are seeing is their mystery," he said with a teasing smile.

Margaret grinned at her father's wit, a trait she dearly wished was a part of her own character.

They sat in a peaceful quiet as the train hurried along its path. Margaret looked back to the scenery that flew by with each passing second. How quickly the world changed, she thought. It hardly seemed like the same life that she woke up to that morning.

"When is the next stop, dear?" Mrs. Hale asked her husband, stifling a yawn as she opened her eyes sleepily.

"We will be arriving in Milton any minute now." Mr. Hale responded moving his head in the direction of his wife without his eyes leaving his paper. Mrs. Hale nodded in acknowledgment. Unlike Margaret, Mrs. Hale could be angry at her husband for their current circumstances. A simple formality, she thought to herself, and we would be sitting in Helstone, bathing in its quietness. Instead, they sat in a train carriage, wondering what the future held for their little family.

All of a sudden, the train started to slow down. The Hales collectively looked out the window to see what their new home looked like. Margaret looked to the sky, searching for the sun, but it was in vain. All she found was a dark mass of clouds. Foreshadowing, she thought to herself as her frown drew lower. The train came to a full stop some seconds later.

"Come, my loves, and let us find our bags." Said Mr. Hale as he stood from his sitting position.

The three, accompanied by their maid Dixon, made their way to the platform in search of the luggage carriage.

As they pulled the floral bags from their place, Margaret tugged on a larger one with difficulty. Pulling as hard as she could, Margaret unthinkingly placed a foot on the side of the cart to give her a better advantage. Before she knew it, Margaret tugged the bag from its place and began to fall with its weight, which was now crushing her. As she stumbled backward, a large, strong hand caught her hips and held them in place while she regained her countenance. The contact made every hair on her body stand on its end. Margaret shivered at the intimacy of the hands placement. She sturdier herself and dropped the stone-heavy bag onto the ground in front of her. Now free, she turned to thank her rescuer, but was faced with a broad chest. Stunned by the proximity, she slowly lifted her head to meet the eyes of her dark knight. She was afraid she would catch on fire at that very moment she was so hot with blush. After a moment of silent, intense staring at one another, he looked away at the sound of her father's voice.

"Why, thank you, sir. My daughter here often bites off more than she can chew, I'm afraid. Margaret, you should not have tried to manage such a weight. You could have been injured." Mr. Hale looked down at her disapprovingly, but quickly recovered. "Thank you again, sir. It would not do to see her take a fall on our first day in town."

The man's gaze returned to Margaret. "No, it would not do at all." He said with a low, deep voice that matched the intensity of his stare. She felt the vibrations of his voice seep through her like water, as if absorbed. His eyes, never looking away from her face, pierced her with their blueness. How anything could stand to be so intense, she wondered. She studied his face, taking in his heart-stopping handsome features. Her eyes moved from his, down his nose, across his cheeks, and around his jaw line. No, she had certainly never seen a more handsome face, even during her time in London with her Aunt Shaw. His stare was heavier than the bag, she thought.

A second later, she heard her mother call her name, beckoning her to help her load the carriage that would take them into town.

"I'll be right there, mother!" she called back, tearing her eyes away from the man. When she looked back to him, he had stepped away from her. As he walked away, he halted, turned, and tipped his hat to Margaret. When he turned back around, she saw him smile, which made her heart race in her chest. She was sure he could hear it from across the station.

Once he was out of sight, Margaret looked down at her dress to see if something was missing as she felt a sudden chill. After inspecting her gown from a moment, a deep blush rushed to her head as she realized that what she felt was the coolness that came from the vacancy of the man's large, warm hands.

Perhaps Milton won't be so dreadful after all, she thought as her mind wondered away with the man who saved her.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Hello again! Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed. It means the world to me that you thought it was good! Hopefully your good opinions remain constant through this chapter. (I was so excited by the good reviews that I couldn't wait to write the next chapter! :)).Please say whatever you feel, and don't be afraid of sounding critical. That's how I grow and improve! If there are any mistakes in the time period or the characters/plot regarding the book, please please please tell me. I'm not an expert, but I'm always up for learning. Again, thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. Happy New Year! - Sav_

 _P.s. I start school on Tuesday so my updates will most likely be during the weekends. But I'm known to be impatient, so who knows? ;) Happy Reading!_

Since the Hales had not secured a house in Milton before their arrival, they were forced to spend a few nights in the local hotel. Upon entering the establishment, Margaret noticed how the interior mirrored its exterior as it was gray and dull. She searched for any color among the busy bodies but found very little.

The next morning after breakfast, Mr. Hale announced that a letter had arrived from Mr. Bell about a house and its availability.

"What did the letter say about the house, Papa?" Margaret asked without removing her eyes from the newspaper. She had no existing knowledge of the current events in Milton and thought it useful to begin educating herself through local news.

"Nothing interesting. Although, it is exceeding lower than I imagined we would be offered. There is no harm in looking at it." He answered, sipping his coffee.

"Would you mind it if I came along? That way your agreeableness will not land us a cave." Margaret teased with a loving smile. Her father thought the best of everyone, sometimes to a fault.

"Of course, my dear. I'm quite sure you could think of a few questions I would not think of myself." He laughed knowingly. "What shall you entertain yourself with, my love, while we are gone?" Mr. Hale asked his wife who sat on the edge of the bed.

"Oh don't worry about me, dear. Dixon and I will work on the sewing. I have fallen behind with all of this traveling. I could do with staying in for a day." Mrs. Hale said distantly, folding a shawl.

The pair set out arm in arm. They walked among the people of Milton for a few minutes taking in its air, or lack of. Margaret noticed the factory workers walked on the street instead of the sidewalk. She was quickly brought out of her thoughts when her father said something about a school. "What was that, Papa? I was distracted."

"I said that I needed to inquire about a teaching position. I'm sure it will take up much of my time and was wondering if you would mind examining the house alone." He said with a sideways glance. It was not proper to leave a women responsible over such matters, but Mr. Hale trusted Margaret more than himself in "such matters."

"Of course, Papa. Shall we meet back at the hotel at 6? Mama would be most displeased if we were late to super." Margaret kissed her father on the cheek before marching toward the address he gave to her.

From its outward appearance, the house looked ordinary. She sighed as she remembered her cottage-like home back in Helstone. It almost felt like a dream.

She climbed the stairs with certainty, pushing her shoulders back when she reached the top. As she went to knock, she noticed that the door was already open. Cautiously, Margaret creaked the door open wide enough for her to enter. The emptiness of the hall made her steps sound heavy and loud. When she peaked her head into what she assumed was the office, she heard voices coming from upstairs.

Unsure of the occupants, Margaret ascended the stairs quietly and stopped at the doorway.

"I don't know what Thornton was thinking. He doesn't even know the chap. Do you know the rent he's asking? Much lower than it's worth, for sure."

"I pay more for my place and it's much smaller than this. Almost wished he was my tenant." The second man laughed.

At this, Margaret stepped into the room, causing the two men to start.

"What are you doing here?" The first man said disapprovingly.

"My name is Margaret Hale. I am here to inquire about the house. Who am I to talk to?" She said sounding bolder than she felt.

"Where is Mr. Hale? We don't do business with women." The second chimed.

"My father is the one who asked me to come. He has given me leave to inspect the house. I will ask again, who am I to speak to?" She said growing irritated.

"That would be me." A familiar voice boomed through the empty room.

The very same chill shot through her as it did before. Margaret thought her eyes would pop out if she did not widen them less. Nervously, she turned around and looked at the floor, unable to meet his gaze. She curtsied slightly, praying her legs did not fail her.

"Miss Hale, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He said without looking away. He studied her face, looking for a response. He was most satisfied with her inability to provide one. She took every ounce of confidence left in her body to look up at him. The rest of it must have fled at the sound of his voice.

"The pleasure is mine, I'm sure. And you are-" she half asked, half begged; the desperation and anxiety were barely covered.

"John Thornton. I am the tenant of this building. I was under the impression that I was meeting with a Mr. Hale. This alternative is much more agreeable." He said, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half smirk. Was he flirting with her?

"Mr. Thornton, we were just-" the first man started, but was interrupted by a hand.

"I will take care of it from here. Miss Hale?" He moved to the side of the doorway to allow her to pass. Unthinkingly, she walked pass him. Neither of them missed the second of nearness. After they were both in the hall, he walked behind her, watching her slim figure glide across the wood floor. Her soft skin, dark hair, and bright eyes contrasted the dreary wall paper and damp atmosphere. His eyes moved back up to her face when she suddenly stopped walking.

"It appears I do not know where I am going." She smiled, waiting for him to take the lead.

"Of course, my apologies, Miss Hale. Where would you like to start?" He stepped in front of her, accidently brushing her hand with his. Her face shot down to her hand as if burned, then back up to his face. His mouth went agape as if to say something but slammed it shut again.

After a moment, Margaret found her voice and spoke: "When I arrived, the two men were discussing the lowness of the rent. Why has the cost been brought down?"

Thornton looked at her for a moment before replying. She shifted uncomfortably. Did she say something wrong?

"My employer, Mr. Bell, claims to be a close friend of your family's. I only thought it right to be fair with the amount of rent." He stated simply, pushing his hand through his hair nervously. Why was he nervous?

"It it more than fair, Mr. Thornton. It is quite generous." She replied quietly looking at her hands.

His heart quickened at her praise. He suddenly became aware of how alone they were. "If you don't mind me asking, where is your father? It seems as though I've met him once already." He smiled knowingly at her. His smile grew as he watched her eyes widen and a warm blush creep to her cheeks.

Blushing at the memory, she turned slightly away from him. She too realized their current situation. "My father is inquiring about a teaching position. He does not have an understanding so far. We cannot afford rent until then."

"Has he not renewed his career in Milton?" Thornton's brow came together.

"No. You see, my father left his position at the church for moral reasons. That is why we moved to Milton. I do think he is happier, though." She said almost to herself thoughtfully.

"He left his secure position because of a moral matter? That hardly seems logical. How can a man uproot his life and that of his family's simply because he does not agree with something?" He said turning irritated.

Instead of backing away, Margaret felt her heat rise and stepped closer to challenge him. "I'll have you know, Mr. Thornton, that my father is a stronger man than you make him to be. I am proud to be the daughter of a man who is so secure in himself and his morals that he is less secure in the comfort of a career. I would rather live her in Milton with a happy father than in my home with a pride-ridden man. Do you mean to tell me that you would rather he kneel to another for vain comfort?" She almost yelled. In her passionate speech, she nearly closed the small space between them. Once she realized their arrangement she quickly fell back to her place before. Ashamed of her outburst, Margaret turned back to Thornton to apologize but was stopped by his reply.

"As a man who's family is completely dependent on his success, I can assure you I would never make such a sacrifice. My comfort is of little consequence; however, I would never put the comfort of my loved ones beneath my opinions and morals." Thornton matched her tone. He let his temper escape before he knew it, and regretted it immediately. His face softened and tried to apologize but was cut off but her voice in return.

"My mother and I would follow my father to the ends of the earth, Mr. Thornton. He means more to us than anything material. It does not matter where we are or what we live in." With this, Margret turned her heel and headed towards the door.

Stunned by her words, Thornton could not move. He stood frozen where he stood as he watched her disappear from the house. No one has ever spoken to him so freely with such passion. No one has ever left him speechless. Especially no woman. Who was she, and what has she done to him?

The following days included the Hales moving into their new home. Margaret did not tell her father about her meeting with Mr. Thornton, only that she meet with the keeper and the house seemed a good fit. He nodded in acknowledgment at his daughter's information.

Mr. and Mrs. Hale spent most of the time organizing books and hanging curtains. Margaret, much to her mother's disapproval and father's humor, helped Dixon and the other servants carry in boxes and furniture. As the days past, the family slowly settled into the new house. After spending so much time inside, Margaret accompanied Dixon to the market on a slightly sunny afternoon. When they returned, she took the mail inside with her and began to read the senders. Her eyes ran across the envelopes and found Mr. Bell's name among them. Knowing the correspondence would bring joy to her father, she happily skipped into the drawing room. "Papa, there is a letter from Mr. B-" Margaret stopped where she stood, as if a glass wall had suddenly appeared.

"Margaret, there you are. I would like formally introduce you to our guest. Margaret Hale, this is Mr. John Thornton. He is my new friend and pupil."

She said nothing. She could not find any feelings in her limbs to curtsy. She stood there like a fool with her mouth agape. To her annoyance, Mr. Thornton was everything sociable and charming. He smiled warmly at her. Her knees nearly gave in beneath her.

"You remember him, don't you? He was the fellow that stopped you from falling at the station." Mr. Hale said, puzzled by his daughters behavior.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Hale." Said Mr. Thornton. Taking her hand in his, he lowered his mouth to meet her paled fingers.

Any color left in her body abandoned her and fled with the last of her confidence.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Well, I hope you like this! Sorry if it's a little boring, the next one will not be, guaranteed. ;) I know that there are a few things that will be different for the plot/characters, but it's all for the bigger picture. Also differences in the time period. I'm trying to stay as true to it as possible, but somethings are needed for the plot I'm striving for. As always, please review if you have a suggestion! I really, really, really appreciate all of the people who have given me advice. You guys are the . I'll most likely update again this weekend because I'm eager for things to start happening! Just depends on what I get done for school. Enjoyyy! -Sav_

"Margaret, are you alright? You look positively ill, my dear." Mrs. Hale breathed quietly. She walked over to where Margaret was standing and placed the back of her hand atop of her forehead to determine a temperature. "Perhaps you should sit down. The day's exercise must have worn you thin."

"I'm quite well, Mama. I simply need to refresh myself. If you'll excuse me." Margaret curtsied, not meeting the gaze of their guest, and all but ran towards the stairs.

As she reached her chambers, Margaret threw herself onto her bed, letting out the breath she had been holding for what seemed like hours. She found a small comfort in the solitude of her room. Her bed held her close and warm as her anxieties melted into it's plush.

All too quickly the reality of her situation became evident. Mr. Thornton was in her house, speaking with her father, with whom he was now friends. She would be seeing him more often than she thought. But the worst part of it, she could not lose her temper with him again. 'I must be respectable. After all, he is here to see Papa.' She reasoned with herself as she brushed the wrinkles from her skirt.

Margaret sat up from her bed with regret and moved to the mirror. Tightening the pins that held her dark curls, she examined herself in the mirror. Quite pale, she thought. Splashing her face and pinching her cheeks, Margaret exited her room and descended down the staircase. As she drew nearer to the drawing room, she became nervous. He is only a man, she tried to convince herself as she turned into the doorway.

"Ah, there you are. I was just telling Mr. Thornton of your great spirit. Although, I'm sure he has discovered it already." Mr. Hale smiled at the man and noticed her shift uncomfortably. Margaret shot Mr. Thornton a look, wondering if he had told her father of their most recent encounter.

"Yes, sir. I can say with certainty that it was a first to see a lady take such responsibly among herself." He smirked knowingly at her slightly parted lips and wide eyes. "I'm convinced I would be quite incapable of removing such a bag. She must be very spirited, indeed."

She felt her sides burn where his hands had held. Margaret let out a sigh of relief. Feeling a little more grounded, she made her way to the chair across the room when she felt his gaze on her. When she looked up to meet his eyes, he was looking at her father. She sat down quietly.

"What kind of work do you do, John?" Mr. Hale asked simply. Dixon entered with a tray. Her mother had retired for the evening. Margaret rose to serve the tea.

As she poured the steaming water into the glass, she realized she did not know how he took his tea. Shyly, she moved her eyes to him, hoping he would understand her look.

"Just cream, Miss Hale. Thank you." He responded. He watched her bracelet hit the rim of the tea cup, making the most delicate sound.

"John?"

Thornton's head snapped up. "Forgive me, what did you ask?"

Mr. Hale shifted his eyes between Thornton and his daughter. "I was asking about your profession. I hear you're quite important around here."

"Economically, perhaps. I run a cotton mill. Marlborough Mills." Thornton returned his attentions to the tea.

"Ah, I could tell you were a leader of sorts. Have an air about you. Quite dominant." Said Mr. Hale.

Margaret gave Mr. Thornton his tea and, not missing the touch of their fingers, nearly spilled it on him. He smiled up at her reassuringly. Or was he laughing, she thought. Embarrassed, she hastily handed off her father's tea to him and returned to her seat. Before she sat down, she turned to the bookshelf and snatched one from its place. Unknowing and uncaring of its contents, she gracefully sat down by the fire. From here she could watch Mr. Thornton without giving herself away.

Throughout the evening, Mr. Thornton and her father discussed topics that bored Margaret. At one point, the day's excitement started to grab hold of her, and she began to fall asleep.

He would glance at her when Mr. Hale looked away. He watched her with humor as she furrowed her brow, trying desperately to focus on her book. He almost laughed out loud when he saw her eyes droop and head fall to her shoulder. "I believe we are boring Miss Hale with our conversations." Said Thornton.

"Forgive me, sir, I've had an exhausting day." She mentally kicked herself for being so tired.

"Perhaps I shall take my leave, seeing as though the lady is tired. I bid you both a good night." As he stood to go, Mr. Hale held up his hand in protest.

"Sit, my boy. We've hardly begun." Thornton looked to Margaret for approval. She smiled softly. He sat down.

"Come," Mr. Hale started again, "Tell me how your business is. I must admit that I have no knowledge of cotton or manufacturing."

"Well," Thornton shifted uncomfortable. He was never questioned or conversed with about his work, except by other mill owners. "There is not much to understand about a mill. My days are similar in pattern. Though, I regret to see that change soon." He moved his eyes from Mr. Hale to the floor, not wishing to continue. He was afraid he would get angry if he kept on.

"Why, what do you mean change?" Mr. Hale sat up in concern for his friend's sudden retreat.

Letting out a sigh, Thornton replied with no emotion. "The hands have formed a union. They are asking for higher wages which I cannot provide. There is threat of a strike."

"I see." Mr. Hale sat back in his chair. Margaret looked up from her book, of which she still did not know the name.

"Surely there is a reason they go to such measures. Have you talked to them, Mr. Thornton?"

"Talked to them? What do you suggest I say, Miss Hale? I have told them I cannot afford it, but they go on anyway. There is nothing I can say to those people to make them understand." His heat began to rise once more.

"Marg-" Her father started, but was interrupted.

"I cannot believe that, Mr. Thornton. A man of your intelligence must know how to explain something so simple. They are stubborn because they are hungry, I am sure. Hunger is a dreadful devil. People like us could never comprehend such a burden. If you talked with them I'm quite certain you could persuade them to reconsider." She knew her words were out of order but she could not stop them. No sooner had she said them did she realize their judgment. How could she not assume he had already tried? She was insulting him. Again.

"Miss Hale, I admire your passion for the weaker man, truly, but you do not see them as I do. You look to them as poor, unfortunate, and mistreated. I do not deny the truth in this, but you must view from my place. I am their master. I provide them work and pay for their families. I give them what is fair and affordable for the mill to be successful. Granted, I do not have the means to pay them to satisfaction, but I have never been close-fisted." He looked at her with earnest. He was disappointed to find that she judged his character so harshly without knowing him, but he remembered their past encounters and his hurt softened.

"I apologize if I caused you injury, Mr. Thornton. That was not my intention. Perhaps I am as ill educated in the ways of business as my father." She gave him an apologetic smile. "But Mr. Thornton, you have made me understand by explaining yourself. I only wish you could do the same with your workers."

"If it brings you peace, I will try to speak to them before anything rash is acted upon." He returned her smile. The dong of the clock made them break their gaze. "Mr. Hale, I have overstayed my welcome. I shall leave you."

"Never, John. You are always welcome. Isn't that right, Margaret?" He looked at her as he stood to shake Thornton's hand.

Margaret felt her blush return as Thornton's gaze became heavier. She moved her eyes to the floor, a safer subject. "Of course, Mr. Thornton. You are welcome any time."

Thornton smiled widely, but Margaret's eyes were glued to the rug. "Well, would it be convenient if I visited again soon?"

"Absolutely. I would not have it any other way. When can you come again? We will start on Plato when you decide." Mr. Hale's face brightened at the thought of such a discussion.

"I shall have my mother and sister call on Mrs. and Miss Hale, that is, if you're agreeable?" He looked to her with question.

Margaret was unsure how she felt about it, but knew it was impolite to decline. He was making an effort to be civil, after all, and she appreciated it. "We would be honored to meet them. What time should they call?"

"They will send a note informing you of the time to be expected." He said formally.

Dixon suddenly appeared. "Mr. Hale, would you come to the Mrs. please? She's asking for you."

"Of course, Dixon. Margaret, would you see Mr. Thornton to the door?" He leaned closer to her so that Thornton could not hear. "And be gentle, my dear. He has bore your lashings impressively this evening." As he stepped back, he looked down with raised eyebrows, waiting for a confirmation. She nodded shyly.

"Well, John, it was a pleasure, but my wife beckons me, and I should not deprive her any longer. Margaret will see you out." He shook Thornton's hand and climbed the stairs.

Margaret and Thornton walked in silence through the hall. When the reached the door, Thornton grabbed his hat and gloves. He turned to Margaret. "You must forgive my defensiveness, Miss Hale. As you can assume, I'm rarely challenged or corrected by a woman. Or anyone, rather." He looked down at the gloves in his hands. He ringed them nervously. "I wanted to share something with you separate from your father. You mentioned that we, people like us, could not understand the workers' struggles. I must disagree, but explain myself. Before my father died suddenly, he lost a fortune to a speculation. I was left to take care of my mother and younger sister with very little means. I worked lowly jobs to provide for them. I have worked unimaginably hard to start and keep my mill successful. I am sorry that you see me as an unforgiving, cold man. Though, I do not blame you." Her frown deepened at his tale, she was completely ashamed of herself. She was quick to reassure him.

"Please, Mr. Thornton, do not judge yourself so harshly. I have done that enough for the both of us this evening." She smiled, unsure how she felt about his confidence in her. Why was he sharing something to private with her? He owed her no explanation, she thought. He lifted his eyes to meet hers and smiled in return.

"I've grown fond of your quick, harsh words, Miss Hale. When they are directed at me, of course. Such attention from you is a pleasure, regardless of their meaning."

She felt her heart pound in her chest, as if to escape. Where was it trying to go, or to whom? The thought frightened her. Exhaling slowly, she turned her eyes to the door. She moved to open it and he let her. As he stepped onto the front steps, he turned to her and flashed her a bright smile that left her searching for support. She watched his retreating figure longer than she should have and turned to close the door. She ran up the stairs to the safety of her bedroom.

Every encounter made her opinion of him change. She decided that she was being too quick to define his character; there was clearly more to it than meets the eye. She was determined to understand him, but that required patients. "I'm not sure I have many of that," she pouted. Maybe she would be good to reconsider her own character. She was hasty to inform Mr. Thornton about his need to improvement. Perhaps she should do the same.

She prepared for bed as her thoughts continued to wonder about the man who had all too quickly intruded on her life. As she blew out the candle, she found sleep to be a distant friend who called on her no more.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Okay, so here's chapter 4. Hope you dig it (if so, you should totes review). :) - Sav_

The next day Mrs. and Miss Thornton sent a note entailing their expected arrival. Margaret and Dixon spent the day cleaning and preparing for their guests while Mrs. Hale watched from her chair. Since the family moved to Milton, Mrs. Hale's spirits were not a little low. Her energy had begun to wear increasingly thin the past couple of weeks. It was simply the traveling that exhausted her, she thought. With company to look forward to, she became a little more cheery and a little less dreary.

Mrs. Hale took it upon herself to prepare their nicest china. Since it had been such a long time since she served guests, she wanted to go the extra mile. After all, they were the family of her husband's increasingly close friend. As she replaced the dishes on the tray, Margaret stepped into the kitchen to find her mother anything but resting. "Mama, what are you doing? The dishes Dixon set out were fine enough. You should be sitting down."

"Oh dear, I'm hardly incapable of assorting tea cups. Mr. Thornton is a dear friend to your father as of late and I wish to treat his family in the upmost courtesy." She replied, not stopping what she was doing.

"But Mama, I can't imagine that nice china will change their opinions, especially if they're anything like Mr. Thornton." Her heart began to race as she said his name. Though, she was unsure if it was due to her anger or something else she could not name.

"Hush. You cannot think so ill of them already. They haven't even arrived. From what your father tells me, you do not hold back your own opinions from Mr. Thornton, on subjects you have them on of course." Mrs. Hale turned her head to raise her brow at Margaret. She quickly avoided her mother's gaze by looking at her hands instead. "I know you, Margaret. And I wouldn't change a thing about you. But we do not know these people, so we cannot form such quick judgments. If they are truly what you say, then we may laugh at their pride when they leave." Mrs. Hale turned to kiss her daughter on the head. "Until then, behave. Although we may try not to judge, I cannot say the same for them."

"Yes, Mama. Of course. How unkind of me to be so rash. Thank you." Margaret hugged her mother softly and helped her finish setting up the tray. A moment later, there was a knock at the door. They both took a breath, for their own reasons, and made their way to the hall. Dixon let them in and they introduced themselves.

They sat in silence for quite some time. Fanny Thornton made several comments on the furnishings, though not all could be taken as compliments. Mrs. Thornton ignored Fanny. Her attention was on Miss Hale. Though she was not extraordinary with her dark, wavy hair, it gave her a natural, soft beauty that did not intimidate, but made one feel comfortable. A very modest, humble Venus. Her average height and slim figure made up for her rather plain dress. Her face, as anyone with sight could see, was beautiful; but it was her eyes that caught Mrs. Thornton's attention the most. They were full of innocent, passionate life. She began to worry for her son.

"Miss Hale, my son tells me that you are often present during his visits with your father." Her tone had unmistakable judgment dripping from it. Margaret lowered her cup onto her plate and thought about her answer before speaking. Behave, she told herself.

"That is correct. I act as hostess and serve tea when inquired."

"Is Mrs. Hale unsuitable? Do you not have a servant to perform the task?"

Margaret's anger rose higher with every syllable. "Mama retires early. We only have Dixon to serve us, but she is quite often fulfilling other house hold chores, or tending to Mama.

Unsatisfied with her answer, Mrs. Thornton did not respond. She only nodded her head. Fanny felt the conversation take an uncomfortable turn and tried to divert Margaret's attention. "Miss Hale, are you not musical? I see no piano."

Margaret was equally annoyed with Fanny, but remained calm. "We sold our piano when we moved to Milton. As you can guess, there's hardly any room for it in this house. I do play, however."

"Oh, how awful! I could not imagine living without music. It's one of the few things that bring happiness in this dirty, smokey town. You must visit us and play ours." Fanny began to air herself with her pink, lacey fan.

"I would be most willing and thankful, Miss Thornton. You're too kind." Mrs. Thornton chuckled at Margaret's hidden sarcasm, which went unnoticed by Fanny.

Mrs. Hale and Mrs. Thornton made light conversation of fabrics until suddenly Fanny interrupted to speak to Margaret. "Miss Hale, how do you find Milton? It must be very different to your old home. I must confess, I do not blame you for missing it. I would miss the countryside if I lived there too."

"I agree that it is different, but I cannot bring myself to think poorly of Milton. I have had little time to give it proper, fair judgment." Mrs. Thornton gave her a questioning look, but Margaret continued, "The people seem harsh and mean, but I am determined to believe there is a cause. After all, this is a productive town. Many factories and mills with poor workers. Such conditions are bound to produce a depressing atmosphere, but I hope there is more too it than that."

Mrs. Thornton was taken aback by Margaret's speech. The hot headed girl she expected to face was no where in sight. Had John been mistaken? Based on her actions this afternoon, Miss hale proved to be level and poised. Her opinion softened slightly. After some time, they rose to leave. "Mrs. Hale," they nodded. "Miss Hale," a second nod. As they reached the door, Fanny swung around to Margaret with a bright face. "Oh Miss Hale, you must come visit me tomorrow. I've enjoyed your company immensely. We shall drink tea and play the pianoforte!"

It wasn't a question, but a plea. Margaret saw past her cheery disposition and saw boredom and loneliness. She pitied Fanny as she imagined having to live with both Mr. and Mrs. Thornton. "Of course, Miss Thornton. I would be delighted." Pleased with her answer, Fanny and Mrs. Thornton left the home. Margaret felt as if a weight had been lifted from her.

Several hours later, Margaret heard the front door open. Rising from her seat, Margaret flew down the stairs to greet her father. She realized too late that he was not alone. As she reached the bottom, she did not meet her father, but Mr. Thornton. Stopping dead in her tracks, she stepped on the hem of her dress and began to lose her balance. Mr. Thornton immediately reached for her and grasped her waist to hold her upright. She reached for the railing and tried to step backward but was not released. Mr. Thornton's hands remained on her sides for a second longer than needed. When he backed away, she stared at him with wide eyes and her lips slightly parted. He was becoming familiar with such an expression. He wore a devilish, breathtaking grin. "We really must stop meeting this way, Miss Hale. It's hardly proper." She felt her face violently blush at his teasing words. She looked past him to see the progress of her father, but he was completely oblivious them. She was heavily relieved. Stepping past Mr. Thornton, not meeting his eyes, she greeted her father warmly and led the gentlemen up the stairs

Their evening proceeded normally. Mr. Hale and Mr. Thornton conversed about Plato and other subjects Margaret had no interest in. All the while the two snuck glances at one other and Mr. Hale stayed in the dark. At one point Mr. Thornton saw Margaret yawn daintily and was arrested by her unearthly glow due to the fire she sat by. He could see the hints of red in her hair make themselves known when the light hit them just right. Her smooth face was at ease. Her mouth-

His thoughts were disrupted when the sound of foot steps approached the room. The three turned their heads to the doorway. Mrs. Hale entered, and the gentlemen stood to greet her. Mr. Hale reached out to question her presence but was hushed instantly. "Oh don't worry yourselves over me, boys. I'm quite alright to enjoy an evening with my family and friend." She smiled warmly at Mr. Thornton. He smiled in response. He quite liked Mrs. Hale.

Mrs. Hale made her way over to the seat opposite to Margaret and took up her needlework. The two women sat in silence for a while before Mrs. Hale caught Mr. Thornton and Margaret stealing looks when the other wasn't looking. She grinned to herself knowingly.

"Does your needlework provide you with good humor, my dear?" Said Mr. Hale. He was surprised that his wife was not resting, but was relieve to find her in such spirits.

"Oh no dear. My needlework is most assuredly the least amusing thing the room." She looked at Margaret from above her glasses, half grinning. Margaret, realizing her mother's meaning, shot Mr. Thornton a look of embarrassment and quickly looked away. Mr. Hale was still unsure of his wife's meaning, but simply smiled at her mood. He turned back to Thornton to see that he was paying close attention to the carpet with a seemingly shy blush. This puzzled him further, but once again, shrugged it off.

Once conversation resumed, Thornton announced that he should be on his way. Mr. Hale slapped his knee. "I almost forgot! I have something for you, John, but I left it in my study. Actually, I'm not sure where I left it. Margaret, will you help me search for it?"

"Of course, Papa." She stood with her father and headed to the study.

Mr. Thornton and Mrs. Hale sat in silence for a moment before she cleared her throat. He looked at her expecting and she stared back over her glasses. "So, Mr. Thornton. It seems you have made a good friend of my husband. All he does is rant about you and your agreeableness. Except, of course, when you converse with Margaret." She laughed at his expression. "I'm not scorning you, Mr. Thornton. I know my daughter and how tough she can be to handle. But she is worth the trouble." She looked at him again. He avoided her gaze. "I must be frank with you, Mr. Thornton, I am not well. Both my husband and my daughter have no knowledge of this and I must ask you to keep it in our confidence. I am not well and I have no indication as to how much longer I will be with them. My husband, I'm sorry to say, will not recover after my death. I sure he will be soon to follow as he is much older than I am. However, Margaret is whom I worry for. She's so young and independent, I worry what will happen to her," she paused to look at him again. After seeing his quizzical brow, she continued. "I've seen the way you look at her, Mr. Thornton. It's quite similar to how Mr. Hale used to look at me. I'm not asking you to declare yourself or do anything rash, but I ask that you spend a great deal of effort making up your mind. If she grows an attachment to you, as I expect she is, I will not allow any man to lead her on. She's very stubborn, usually to a fault. All I need to know from you is that you will think about your actions before you make them." Her eyes became misty as she watched for his reply.

He leaned forwards to rest his elbows on his knees. He was thoughtful for a moment, but then turned to face Mrs. Hale. "I would never intentionally bring injury to Miss Hale. Nor do I wish to make her believe something untrue. I do, however, doubt that she has any sort of feelings for me. She has never indicated other wise. But, to put you at ease, I will admit that I'm terribly attracted to your daughter. She's everything kind, gracious, and honest. I've never met another person with such clarity of their own character. I promise to be cautious, Mrs. Hale. You have my word. As long, of course, you keep this in our confidence as well."

She smiled at him with satisfaction. Nothing he said surprised her, but it was reassuring nonetheless.

Margaret and Mr. Hale re-entered the room. Mr. Hale handed Thornton the book, said their farewells, and asked Margaret to see him to the door.

As they entered the hall, Margaret studied his tall, bold frame. His arms swung in symmetry at his sides. His hands were balled into tight fists and she instantly wished to know the cause.

He reached for his hat and gloves like he did before, and paused like he did before.

"Mr. Thornton, is there something the matter?" She asked looking up at him. He turned to her and gazed into her eyes, deeper than he ever had before. Her heart pounded harder and faster with every passing second. She fought against her pull to him. She wished to comfort whatever sadness he was experiencing. All of a sudden she remembered herself and felt ashamed for having such a thought.

She tore her eyes away in order to compose herself. She heard him exhale heavily.

"Miss Hale, I was wondering…" He stopped himself. Her head shot up in anticipation.

"Miss Hale…"

"Yes, Mr. Thornton?" She said breathlessly. She felt as though she would burst if he didn't continue.

"I was wondering if you… you…" He closed his eyes in frustration.

"I was wondering if you and your family would join us for a party we are holding next week. The invitations have not been sent, but I would like to know if it was too much on your father and mother to attend such an evening."

Her heart dropped. Was that all? She did her best to mask her disappointment. "I am unsure if Mama would be willing, but my father and I would be delighted to attend." She answered formally, stepping towards the door. He watched her move with an ache in his stomach; no, it was deeper than that. He ached in his very soul to reach out and tell her how he felt. But he restrained himself. He knew she would never accept such behavior and the last thing he wanted was to drive her away. "Good then. I'm glad of it. Until next time, Miss Hale." He tipped his hat to her as he walked outside. When he reached the bottom of the stoop, he turned to look at her figure in the doorway. She did not break his gaze. Most unwilling, he turned from her and pouted the way home.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: As always, I hope you like it. Please review and tell me what you think. To those who consistently review: I love you. No, really. I'm like, in love with you. Thank you so much for your kind words and helpful comments. They mean more to me than you'll ever know. You guys are the best._ _(The second update is for a spelling error. Shout out to the homie who pointed it out. You the real MVP)_ _:) - Sav_

Thornton walked home with a masked expression. He watched his feet closely as they crushed the gravel beneath him. How could he be so foolish as to think he could ask her right then? He has hardly known her a fortnight. Besides, he thought, she was a respectable young woman. Her attentions may as well be interpreted as hospitality. His were certainly not that of just kindness towards the daughter of a friend. No, he mused, they were much more than that.

When he reached his house, he climbed the stairs quickly and opened the door without hesitation.

"John, is that you then?" Mrs. Thornton called out from in front of the fire.

"Yes, Mother, who else would it be?" He removed his gloves and hat. He placed them on the table by the door. One glove fell to the floor, but he did not notice.

"You visit the Hale's until late hours, John." She said in a low tone, as if thinking out loud. She did not remove her attention from her sewing.

"Yes, well. They are pleasant company. I should wish to stay in their presence until they send me off. Why are you still awake?" He walked behind her chair, leaned to her right, and kissed her cheek.

"I wanted to see you home and in bed before I."

"I am not a child, Mother. I am quite capable of making it to my chambers without assistance." He removed his coat and walked to his study. He took up a book from a shelf before sitting at his desk. He sighed into the leather. He opened the cover of the book, turned to the first page, and read the first sentence. He shook his head to rid himself of his thoughts and concentrate on the task at hand. It was in vain. He reread the sentence five more times before he closed it with defeat. Every time he made effort to think of something else, the same woman intruded his thoughts.

"I must think of a better approach." He groaned to himself. She was not the silly girl he first thought her to be. His flirtatious attentions towards her were not scolded, but remained unreturned as well. He ached to know her thoughts and feelings. He came so close to asking her, but thought better of it at the last moment. How could he assume, or even dare hope, that she felt the same as he? He had been captured far more quickly than he anticipated, and could not expect the same from her. She was being much more sensible than he.

He gave up on the book and retired to his chambers where he tossed and turned all night, thinking of how pink her cheeks got. And how her bracelet would slide down her thin wrist and hit his teacup.

When Mr. Thornton left, Margaret retired immediately to her room. She replayed the events of the evening over and over, trying to make sense of his behavior in the last few minutes. What did he mean to say? She thought. The thought invaded her mind as she paced back and forth: What did she want him to say?

She halted her pacing. There was a knock at the door. "Come in."

"Margaret, are you alright?" Her father asked, not fully entering the room.

"Of course. Why, Papa?"

"There are far too many footsteps coming from such a small room, my dear. Are you sure you are well?" His brow came together. The skin between them wrinkled to give them way.

She nodded her head, biting her lip.

"I hope I do not offend, my dear, but you always seem to be in such a state when Mr. Thornton comes to visit, or goes to leave. Does he make you uncomfortable, Margaret? I could arrange to meet him elsewhere."

"Oh no, Papa. I would not ask you to. Mr. Thornton is most welcome." She looked down at her skirt and smoothed out a wrinkle.

"Very well. Do tell whatever is bothering you to retire for the night. The rest of the house would like to sleep." He smiled at her brightly and closed the door.

She waited to hear his footsteps disappear and went to undress herself. As she brushed through her hair, her mind was filled with questions about Mr. Thornton and herself. For now, she thought, I must concentrate on the task at hand. Tomorrow she was to call on Fanny. What if she should encounter him? Would she feel defenseless being in his home instead of hers? It does not matter, she supposed. She did not have a choice, she already promised to go.

She climbed into bed where she fought to find the comfort in unconscious, but was unrelieved.

Margaret walked along the hedges in Helstone. She watched as the birds flew from branch to branch and the wind blew the grass in soft direction. The sun made her skin warm as she ran her hands along the leaves that formed a border around her yard. All of a sudden, the church bells rang. She turned around frantically and started running towards the church. As she ran along the path, she hardly noticed the lack of people. Her heart pounded in her chest. She reached for the handle of the door slowly, unsure if she wished to know the meaning of the bells, but unable to push past the feeling of anticipation. Her body shook as the cold metal burned through the tips of her fingers.

Her eyes suddenly shot open and her body came to an upright position. Her nightgown was soaked from the front to the back. Her hair suck to her forehead as her chest heaved. Whipping away the moisture from her face, she threw back the blankets. It was barely dawn.

Margaret rang the bell for Dixon and asked her to draw a bath. While she soaked in the steaming water, she thought about her dream and what it could it mean. Why was she so afraid to enter the church? At the same time, why could she hardly wait to know what was inside waiting for her?

Within a couple of hours, Margaret found herself at the doorstep of the Thornton's house. She had sent a note detailing her expected time of arrival, but found it difficult to make her hand perform the motion of knocking. With the comforting thought of an afternoon being dulled by Fanny's yammering, she quickly swallowed her fear and brought her hand up to do the task. Before she had the chance, the door was suddenly opened. She looked up in surprise, in which immediately turned to a blush. Mr. Thornton was equally taken aback by her seemingly magically appearance. The woman he couldn't stop thinking about was suddenly right in front of him, as if his thoughts manifested before his eyes. Had he made her appear out of thin air? He smiled.

"Miss Hale, I was unaware that we were to be graced by your company this morning."

"Yes," she said nervously, looking down at her gloves. "Miss Thornton insisted that I visit today since she so enjoyed our conversation from yesterday. I could not deny her."

"Right, of course. That would be most cruel of you." He teased. She looked up at him to find a familiar expression of playfulness on his face. She relaxed slightly in his good mood. He moved aside to let her in the door and shut it behind her. A maid appeared to gather her cloak, bonnet and gloves. Mr. Thornton took on the task of providing her to his family.

"Why are you still here, John? It's nearly ten." His mother said without looking back to the approaching footsteps.

"I told you, Mother, I slept in by mistake. Miss Hale is here."

Mrs. Thornton rose to find a small woman standing next to her son. She seemed much tinier in the presence of her tall, strong son. "Yes, I remember now. It's due to the lateness of your arrival home, I'm sure. Mr. Hale does keep you later than he should."

Margaret's head shot up at the mention of her father. "Papa enjoys Mr. Thornton's company so much that he often looses track of the hour. It's hardly done on purpose, I assure you."

Thornton looked from Margaret to his mother with a half smile directed at her. He raised his brow at his mother's pointed look and cleared his throat. "Well, I'm already late enough for work. Please enjoy yourself, Miss Hale. You are most welcome. How long do you plan on staying?" He looked back to her now, and her quiet countenance returned.

"As long as your family decides to keep me, I am at their disposal. I have no other engagements." She played with a small string that had lost its place from the pattern in her skirt.

"Then I hope to see you before you leave, Miss Hale. If I do not, I hope you have a wonderful afternoon. Good day, ladies." He dipped his head formally at the women before making his way back to the door. He was leaving in much higher spirits than he imagined he would.

Fanny came down the stairs and shrieked at Margaret's arrival. "You're here!"

The two girls talked for hours of petticoats, music, books, and an assortment of things girls are supposed to talk about. Margaret watched in fascination as Fanny unfolded at the mention of such things. Her smile and bright manner lit up the room. With Mrs. Thornton completing chores around the house, Margaret and Fanny were left to their own devices.

"So Margaret-" Fanny gasped at her own slip. "Oh, may I call you Margaret? I feel as though we are friends enough already."

"Of course you may. Shall I call you Fanny?"

"Nothing would make me happier!" She beamed. "As I was saying, Margaret, I was wondering if there was anything in Milton that made it seem less dreary? I remember you saying that you hoped there was more to it than meets the eye, and I wanted to know if you had found something that made it so."

Margaret became thoughtful. She realized that she did not feel as cold toward Milton as she did in the beginning, but wondered why? Her face became heated at the thought of a certain gentlemen.

"Margaret?"

"Forgive me, I was thinking of your question." She shifted in her seat. Fanny's face broke out into a smile.

"Perhaps, Margaret, it is a man?"

Margaret's head snapped up at the words and immediately dropped just as quickly. "I have no understanding, if that is what you mean."

"So you are growing an attachment? Do I know the person? I'm sure I do, my family knows practically everyone in town." Fanny became giddy at the idea of a potential wedding.

"Oh no, Fanny. There are no secrets to tell. I hardly know how I feel. Everything is so confusing. I can't tell the difference between sickness and love."

"Isn't love a sickness? If so, I wish to never recover. That is, whenever I do fall in love, I hope it to be an illness that never goes away." She stared dreamily out the window. Margaret dwelled on the words and found herself concurring. "If you will not tell me his name, I shall not press you. But do not leave me in the dark if the situation progresses. This might be the most exciting thing that's ever happened in Milton, and hardly anything is happening yet!"

Margaret felt it safer to bring the conversation to the topic of music. Before they could reach the piano, they were called to lunch. Margaret both hoped and dreaded the idea of Mr. Thornton joining them, but he didn't. The meal passed in relative quietness.

After the ladies finished, they returned to their station at the piano. Fanny played for hours while Margaret enjoyed her elegant talent. Margaret watched Fanny with a sense of self-consciousness. Her posture was perfectly straight as her long, slim fingers glided across the black and white keys. Her dress far exceeded Margaret's in fabric and style. She brushed her skirt and wondered how she would look in something like that.

At five minutes until five, Fanny suddenly stopped her playing and looked at Margaret. "Oh, forgive me, Margaret! I was so ecstatic to have such a kind audience that I forgot myself. Would you like to play?"

"I've been so entrapped by your lovely playing, Fanny, that I barely noticed." Margaret rose to sit herself at the piano. The music sheets in front of her were unfamiliar. She remembered the song that her mother would play when she was a girl. She would sit in her room and braid her doll's hair to the score. She smiled at the memory.

Margaret closed her eyes as she rested her hands lightly on the keys. Her fingers began to move without command. All she could see was her mother on the seemingly tall seat as she swayed back and forth to reach her hand's destination.

Thornton had heard his sister's playing from his office. He recognized her choice of score because it's what she chose daily. There was a pause in the music, and then it suddenly took up again; however, this time, the music was different. It was softer, slower. He wondered how she learned something different so quickly.

Overruled by his curiosity of the entrancing music, he put on his coat and hat and made his way back to the house. He followed the sound through the house until he entered the room that contained the piano. To his surprise, he found his sister sitting across the room with her eyes closed shut, listening intently. He had never seen her so quiet.

His eyes moved to the piano. His legs nearly gave way at the sight of her. The setting sun was shining through the window and dusted her in its rays. She glowed like an angel trapped on earth. Her face was warm and soft as it remained shut during her playing. He stood there until the song ended and she opened her eyes.

Margaret had not heard him enter the room. She jumped at the sound of thundering applause. To her amazement (and embarrassment), Mr. Thornton stood in the door way, gazing at her in the way he always did. She silently cursed him for sneaking up on her.

Fanny joined in with her brother's praise. She quickly stood and moved to Margaret's side. "Oh Margaret, that was the most beautiful song I have ever heard. Don't you agree, John?"

"Indeed, the most beautiful…" His voice trailed off as she shyly met his stare. He smiled at her small blush.

"I can hardly accept such a praise, I played by memory. I don't even remember the name." She played with the tip of a key. Thornton mused at her modesty.

"Nonsense, Margaret. It was breathtaking. You must teach it to me the next time you visit!"

"As you wish." Margaret smiled. The clock struck five. "Oh, it's getting late. I should return home before Papa begins to worry. Thank you for your kind hospitality, Fanny. You are a most wonderful companion and gracious host."

The two Thorntons led Margaret to the door. She bid them both a farewell and gave her thanks to Mrs. Thornton through Fanny.

As Margaret walked away from the house, she breathed heavily. She was happy to be returning to the comfort of her home.

She had been walking for less than half a minute when she heard: "Miss Hale!"

Margaret spun around to face a sprinting Mr. Thornton. He caught up with her with ease.

"Miss Hale…" he panted.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Hey there. Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter. You guys keep me motivated to continue with this. I hope you like it! Keep reviewing! Next chapter should be fun :) - Sav_

"Miss Hale…" he panted. She looked at him questioningly. He began to ring the gloves he forgot to put on in his haste. "Miss Hale, I planned on visiting your father this evening. Also," he waved around him, "it's getting dark, as you can see. I could not let you walk the streets unaccompanied."

She studied his movements carefully. Aware of the enveloping darkness, Margaret considered his offer. Should she risk propriety for safety? A woman of her station should not be alone at night, with this she agreed. Before she could reply, he hurried to reassure her.

"I promise to keep my distance from you, Miss Hale, if that is the reason for your hesitation. I only wish to provide protection." He smiled at her in a bright, childlike manner. It softened her slightly; although his promise to remain distant disappointed her a little.

"Very well, Mr. Thornton." She nodded to him formally without meeting his eyes. She began to walk forward and Thornton quickly joined her side. They walked for a few minutes without speaking. Thornton opened his mouth to speak several times, but always snapped it shut.

He finally found something to say. "It seemed as though you enjoyed your visit with my sister."

It was a simple statement, but Margaret obliged. "Yes, Miss Thornton proved to be wonderful companion. I enjoy our visits immensely."

He laughed at this. "You are too kind, Miss Hale. I'm sure you don't enjoy conversations of lace and patterns. I know you to be more intelligent than to be entertained by such silly things."

"On the contrary, Mr. Thornton. I find her love for finery to be quite diverting." She paused to consider her words. He looked at her to continue. "In my world, Mr. Thornton, the days blend together. I hardly know whether it's morning or evening. To have something different from the same four walls is refreshing, regardless what it is. Her topics may be silly, but I find myself smiling more."

He looked at her carefully as she spoke. Hearing that her life was all but meaningless, Thornton yearned to take away anything that caused her to be unhappy. He craved to be the reason for her smile. His sister would have to do, for now. "I hope you find more in Milton to make you smile, Miss Hale. The world should not be deprived of it."

"I'm starting to."

He looked at her earnestly. Her eyes stared ahead, but he felt her meaning.

As the two reached the house, Thornton gently grabbed the crook of her arm before her hand reached the knob. Her look traveled from his hand to his face. Her lips parted to suck in a breath. "Miss Hale," he started, but moved his eyes down to his hand and released her. Frowning, his gaze returned to hers. "I'm afraid I haven't given you the credit you deserve, Miss Hale. In these past few weeks I've expected you to be a certain way, or say a certain thing. I realize that I have judged you without conviction." He paused to read her face. It said nothing. He continued: "You surprise me every time our paths cross. I do hope you can forgive me, for I was thinking that we could start our friendship over."

Margaret stood in awe as the proud, stern master apologized to a lady of no consequence. His voice was thick with sincerity. Her thoughts flew back to all of the times she had done the same to him, which was quite often, she added in her head. However, she did not know he felt this way. If he ever judged her, he did not show it. Margaret could not say the same for herself. "Mr. Thornton, you are most quickly forgiven. Any judgments you have given me are assuredly deserved. I have not been kind to you. Any ill thought, Mr. Thornton, is given with justice." She looked at her hands as she spoke the last sentence. Thornton took her hands in his. She could feel the heat from his glove seep through her own. She looked up at him.

"Margaret, I-"

Just then, Dixon opened the door and Thornton quickly dropped her hands. Margaret turned around and smiled as wide as she could, her legs still trembling. As the two walked into the warm abode, Dixon eyed them suspiciously. She watched as the removed themselves of their outerwear in silence. "Miss, your mother wishes to speak to you in her room before you visit with your father." Margaret nodded to Dixon and hurried up the staircase. She turned to Thornton. "Mr. Thornton, may I speak plainly with you sir?"

He laughed. "I'm sure you will anyway, Dixon. I think I know what this is about."

"I'm sure you do. Anyone with eyes could see what is going on between you and Miss. I've known her since she was a little one, Sir. I watched her grow into the beautiful young woman she is today. I cannot stand aside as she walks into a compromise."

He quickly turned to meet her eyes. "And why would I do that to Miss Hale, Dixon? Am I incapable of gaining her affection myself? Must I lower myself to tricks and deceit?"

"I mean no harm to your character, Sir. None of us know you well enough. That's all I'm saying. I pray that the Miss finds happiness in marriage, not unwanted duty." She stopped and folded her arms across her chest. "I did not like the way the two of you were standing on the stoop alone just then. I shall not see her be the talk of the town, Mr. Thornton."

He considered her words. If they became speculation of the town, they would be forced to marry for her reputation's sake. She would never love him. "I understand, Dixon." He frowned.

Margaret appeared at the bottom of the staircase. The light in her eyes was gone. Dixon and Mr. Thornton looked at each other and followed Margaret deeper into the house. As they came upon Mr. Hale, he stood to greet them. "Ah, there you are my dear. I see you brought with you a friend!" He teased. He saw Margaret's lack of response and quickly became alarmed. "Is there something wrong, Margaret?" His eyes glanced to Mr. Thornton briefly.

"Mama is worsening." She stated dully, looking at the fire.

"Come now, do not worry so. Everything will be right soon."

"How can you say that? How can you be blind to what is right in front of you? Mama is dying."

"Nonsense." Mr. Hale's brow came together in frustration. "Your mother will be fine. She is simply tired from the traveling."

"If she was tired, surely she would have been recovered by now, Papa?" Margaret shot back at him. She felt the anger spill over her. "She can hardly make it down the stairs. She grows weaker everyday. Why won't you see it, Papa?" She began to cry. Thornton instinctively stepped forward to comfort her, but Dixon grabbed his arm. She was not his to comfort. He stepped back.

They were quiet for some minutes. Feeling intrusive to the sensitive moment, Thornton rose to take his leave of the party. Margaret almost asked him to stay, but thought better of it. She stood with him to show him to the door. As they reached the hall, Thornton rested his hand on his hat that sat on the table.

He turned to Margaret and stared at her for a moment before taking her small hand in his. "If there is anything I can do for your family," He raised her hand to his face and sighed on the back of her slight fingers, "or for you." He pressed his warm lips onto her trembling skin. He did not pull away like he aught. He remained there for a few moments longer than necessary. When he finally did release her and turn away, Margaret immediately felt the loss of his touch. Unthinkingly, she grabbed for the hand that left hers a second ago.

His response was immediate. Before he knew it, he had grabbed her free hand within his; and before she knew it, she had raised her palm to rest on his face. His eyes closed at the touch of her skin. He swallowed hard. It took every ounce of his self control to not gather her in his arms and never let her go. His hand pressed hers while he leaned his head into it.

A moment later, she grabbed his hand with both of hers as he had done and kissed the tip of his knuckles. His free hand moved to her face and gently removed a tear that had escaped. All too quickly he remembered the words Dixon had spoken. "I should go." He said softly. Her face sank deeper.

"Yes, I supposed you should." Without looking at him, their hands parted and she turned to gather his things. She watched his hands as they entered the gloves.

"Goodnight, Miss Hale."

His use of her name did not go unnoticed. She was now Miss Hale again. "Goodnight, Mr. Thornton."

He opened the door and walked down the street without turning back to her. She closed the door quietly.

When she reached her room, her thoughts pounded through her. Did she misinterpret everything? Had she gone too far? But the way he responded, she thought. His actions caused her to be less clear than they were before.

The next day, the city went quiet. The mills stopped turning and the streets became vacant.

Mr. Thornton's visits were all but nonexistent. The household could feel the loss of his presence and Margaret specifically craved to see him. Although she was still unsure about where his feelings lie, she could not deny her own. Her heart raced at the thought of him. He occupied her every thought. She was falling for Mr. Thornton, and only he would be able to catch her.

The days dragged on as Margaret watched the rain slid down the window. The fire crackled in the background while she ran her finger along the cold glass.

"Margaret, have you decided what you will wear to the Thornton's dinner?" Her mother asked from the chair she sat in.

"I have not." She replied, not directing her gaze to anything in particular.

"Well, I think you should wear the cream one. You know, the one your Aunt Shaw bought for you when you stayed with her in London? I have never seen you wear it, and it would do the job credibly."

"Of course, Mama. That will be fine."

"Margaret, you do remember the dinner is tonight, don't you?"

Her head shot up from her knees. "What? Tonight? What day is it?"

Mrs. Hale sighed at her daughter. "The invitation arrived two days ago. You have been out of sorts lately; I am not surprised it escaped your notice."

Margaret stood and cross the room with anxiety. She had forgotten all about the dinner and how soon it would be. Lately, her thoughts were directed elsewhere. She rummaged through her closet and trunks to find the lacy, cream dress her mother spoke of. As she pulled it from its box, her eyes ran over the finery. This should do well, she smiled to herself.

With her longing to see Mr. Thornton, Margaret also dreaded it. She knew how she felt, but what if it was unreturned? What should she do with herself then?

Dixon helped Margaret dress and prepare for the dinner within the few hours. Her hair was held up with pins that tamed her curls. A small, single white rose was placed on the side of her head by her mother. "There. Now it will be impossible for Mr. Thornton to keep his countenance."

"Mama!" Margaret exclaimed.

Mrs. Hale only laughed at her daughters charming blush. She patted her shoulders and went down stairs with the assistance of Dixon. She saw her husband and daughter off as they took the carriage that the Thorntons had sent. I can hardly wait to know what happens, she thought with a knowing smile upon her face.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Sorry for taking so long with this chapter. School has been insanely time consuming. I really hope this is satisfactory! Let me know! -Sav_

While Margaret and her father traveled to the Thornton's, Margaret thought deeply while her eyes drifted to the passing streets. Mr. Thornton had been quite absent from her home since the strike had begun. She often found herself wondering how he was doing, and would sigh when she remembered how dull her days were without him in them. She tried her best to be understanding of his situation. Of course, she thought, he would return to his routine of visiting her father when the strike was handled. After all, he was a very important man with consuming responsibilities.

Their carriage arrived in a short time, and the pair made their way to the house. Upon entering, Margaret gazed in amazement at the transformed home. Surely this was not expected of the Thorntons, especially with the current circumstances, but was unsurprising. The elegant arrangements of flowers filled the room with an aroma of sweetness. The large, royal candles lit the room romantically as if the sun had set permanently in this direction. As Margaret's eyes moved from one splendor to another, she caught site of the lovely gowns that the guests were wearing. They looked as if they were cut from the very linen of fashion and stamped with London's approval. She suddenly felt very aware of her own.

Just then, Fanny appeared from behind a crowd of gentlemen. "Margaret! I was so hoping you would arrive soon. I cannot express to you, with any selection of vocabulary from the English language, how much I have missed your company these past months."

Margaret beamed at her new friend's sincerity. "Fanny, it has hardly been a week! Surely you have survived without my sharp tongue and vile manner."

Fanny gasped playfully and took Margaret's arm. "I cannot allow you to speak ill of such a dear friend. I cannot agree that I have survived. Yes, the entire household has missed your presence."

Margaret's heart nearly leapt from her chest. Did Fanny have a deeper meaning to her statement? Should she assume such a thing? She tried to dismiss the thought, but it was in vain.

Fanny greeted Mr. Hale in a kind formality while Margaret made introductions. Going around the room, Fanny introduced Margaret and her father to the local mill owners, their wives, and other important people by the means of Milton. The men smiled at Margaret while the women stared from behind their fans. In hushed tones, Margaret could hear her name be uttered on more than one occasion.

Margaret was in constant search for the host. Her gaze traveled from the head of each tall man. At one point, she lifted herself onto her toes to gain a better advantage, but was called down by the voice of her father. However, his words were not directed at her, but behind her. "Thornton, my boy! How refreshing it is to see you. We have missed your visits immensely, haven't we Margaret?"

Margaret stood frozen. She was stuck between running away and throwing herself at him. After a moment, she slowly turned to meet his eyes and realized how close he had been standing behind her. Margaret curtsied, but glued her eyes to his shoes. "Yes, of course, Mr. Thornton. It has not gone unnoticed."

"Perhaps that is not the only thing that has gone unnoticed, Miss Hale?" Thornton said quietly, as if only to Margaret.

Blushing hotly almost immediately, her face shot up to meet his stare. His eyes danced with playfulness that she had not seen since their second meeting when he showed her the house. After a minute, he gave her a small smile, and moved his attention to Mr. Hale, who was oblivious to the moment.

"Where have you been all this time, John? You are a most inattentive host, my dear fellow." Mr. Hale teased with a shallow chuckle.

"Quite the opposite, Mr. Hale. I've been hard at work. There are too many guests to leave unattended. Of course, in a perfect world, I would give all of my attention to the two of you. I must apologize for my absence as of late. The strike has taken up much of my time."

"Of course, John. You are most quickly forgiven." Mr. Hale said sympathetically. Before more could be said, a small, blond woman in a pink and white gown appeared and took Thornton's arm possessively. Margaret's breath caught.

Her frame was narrow and her gown shaped it well. Her golden hair was pinned up with small flowers. The color of her cheeks matched the color of her lips, which matched the color of her dress. She looked something like a royal portrait, and Margaret instantly compared herself. She was coming up short, and not by a little.

"Mr. Thornton, how long did you plan on making father and I wait for your return?" She smiled up at him flirtatiously. Turning to Margaret, her sweet smile faded to one of icy coldness.

Thornton visibly stiffened. Any trace of humor vanished from his manner. "Miss Latimer, may I introduce you to my dear friends, the Hales? This is Mr. Hale and his daughter Miss Margaret Hale. They are new residents to Milton."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hale." She smiled politely at the old man and barely met the eyes of Margaret. "Miss Hale."

"Miss Latimer." Margaret returned, trying her hardest to control her breathing and knees.

"Come, Mr. Thornton, Papa has some questions for you." Miss Latimer steered Thornton away from the Hales. With one last glance behind his shoulder, Thornton disappeared in the sea of petticoats.

Margaret and Mr. Hale spent their time speaking to other guests and praising Mrs. Thornton for her lovely party.

"Truly Mrs. Thornton, you have outdone yourself this evening. Everything is of the finest taste. I'm sure I have never been to a nicer party in all my years." Mr. Hale said gaily, waving his arm at the décor.

"You're too kind, Mr. Hale. I'm sorry that Mrs. Hale could not join us this evening." Mrs. Thornton said with a polite, but cold tone.

"Yes, Maria sends her regrets. Her health does not permit her many activities these days."

"I am sorry to hear that, Mr. Hale. If there is anything my family can do, please do not hesitate to ask." Mrs. Thornton softened slightly. She recognized the pain Mr. Hale was feeling, or would soon feel, and had sympathy for him. She looked at Margaret, who was had her eyes glued to the tile, and wondered what would become of her.

As the evening progressed, Margaret found herself in an increasingly boring conversation with her father and another gentleman. Her interest was raised at the sound the group next to them.

"You must be very happy Mr. Latimer. Such a marriage is most advantageous, for both parties too!" One woman exclaimed.

"Yes, quite ecstatic. However, I am deeply grieving the loss of such a child under my roof. With the death of Mrs. Latimer some years ago, I do not know what I will do with myself." Mr. Latimer responded.

"Perhaps a little business?" Another man playfully suggested.

"You would like that, wouldn't you, Watson?" Mr. Latimer laughed.

The rest of the group continued to give congratulations on the engagement, and Margaret nearly became sick. Her head pounded as her thoughts raced through it. Her heart shattered repeatedly at every 'congratulations.' How could this be? Mr. Thornton and Miss Latimer engaged? He would have told father, surely.

She looked over to where Thornton was standing. Miss Latimer was still hanging on his arm and every word he said along with it. The party he was conversing with laughed at something Miss Latimer had said. Margaret turned away, unable to bare the sight any longer.

She wiped her hands on her skirt as an attempt to calm her self, but it was unchanging. How could he do this? What kind of man leads a woman on to have feelings for him, just to be engaged? she thought. Her eyes began to tear traitorously. Fanny inconveniently appeared almost instantly.

"Margaret, is everything alright?" She asked worriedly. Margaret straightened her back and forced herself to smile.

"Of course, Fanny. I just feel overwhelmed at the moment. I'm quite alright."

"Margaret, would you like a moment alone in the study? I can arrange for it."

Margaret didn't respond, but Fanny took her hand regardless and led her away from the party. Neither of them said a word as they moved through the house. As they reached the study, Fanny took Margaret's hands and squeezed them affectionately. Margaret smiled thankfully at her friend.

Fanny quietly left the study and shut the door behind her. After a moment, Margaret grab held of the chair in front of her for support as she forced the cries down her throat. She focused on her breathing for a while; her breathes became stronger with each intake. She studied the fabric on the chair, eventually sitting in it. She stroked the pattern with her finger and traced it up the arm. She sniffled.

Just then, the study door opened. Margaret was horrified to find Mr. Thornton standing in front of her. She quickly stood, muttered an apology, and made for the door. He stopped her immediately.

She wiped her face of any tears that remained and avoided his gaze. He noticed her actions and immediately became concerned.

"Miss Hale, what's the matter?" He asked, crouching his body to meet her eyes. She would not budge. "Is it Mrs. Hale? Has something-" His voice trailed off sadly.

"No, Mr. Thornton. Mama is well enough." She said quietly, almost a whisper, and she played with a string on her sleeve.

"Then why are you troubled so? Has a guest offended you? I shall dismiss them immediately."

Margaret let out a short, cold laugh at his statement. Silently cursing herself, she shook her head to rid her thoughts of the image of Miss Latimer hanging on Thornton's arm.

"No, Mr. Thornton. No guest has offended me. I apologize for the intrusion of your study. I should find my way back to the party." She stepped forward to move around him, but his hand caught the crook of her arm.

"Margaret, please." He said in a pleading whisper. She fought as hard as she could to maintain herself. All of her hard work at containing her emotions was thrown away at his touch.

Sniffling back a tear, she cleared her throat and removed her arm from his grip. "I offer you my congratulations, Mr. Thornton."

"Congratulations? I'm afraid I don't understand you." He stood back to look at her face clearly. Her eyes met his with a fury behind them. His confusion only grew.

"How could you be so unkind, Mr. Thornton? What kind of respectable man leads a woman to believe that he cares for her, only to be betrothed to another? How selfish you must be, Mr. Thornton. I released any thought I had entertained for the attentions you had paid me in the beginning, but recently it has been incredibly difficult to do so. Why would you do it?" She watched as he stood speechless. His mouth was open but said nothing at all. She felt the shame of her outburst wash over her in waves. She closed her eyes and turned her face away from him. After a single breath, she reached for the door handle, but was met by his hand.

"Margaret, to whom am I engaged?" He finally said, repressing a smile that threatened his face.

"Do not play me as a fool, Mr. Thornton. I heard almost every guest congratulate Mr. Latimer on the engagement." She said pulling her hand away, but he would not release it.

"You believe me to be engaged to Miss Latimer, Margaret?"

"Why does it matter if I believe it to be so? My thoughts mean nothing on the matter."

"Margaret, Mr. Latimer has a son."

"Of what consequence is that?" She said irritated.

"Mr. Latimer has a son, and he is engaged to Miss Atkins." He said gently, rubbing his thumb on the back of her hand.

"Mr. Latimer's son is engaged? What of Miss Latimer?" She said astounded.

"As far as I know, she is quite unspoken for." A smile spread across his face. He showed no sign of displeasure or anger. She looked up at him in amazement. "Besides, how could I possibly be engaged to someone like Miss Latimer when there is someone like Miss Hale?"

Margaret breathed for the first time in what seemed to be hours. Her hands trembled from the release of all anxiety she held within her. "Mr. Thornton, I-" she started, but was silenced.

"Margaret, why did the thought of an engagement to Miss Latimer upset you so?" He asked her. His eyes were overflowing with mirth and enjoyment of the situation.

"Well, I-" she started again, but suddenly felt embarrassed. She looked down at their hands. His free hand took hold of her chin and brought it back up to meet his eyes.

"Do you mean to tell me that you care for me, Margaret? I can draw no other conclusion."

"Care for you, Mr. Thornton? I thought it was clear I did much more than care for you."

Without another word, she was gathered in his arms. He pressed her tight against him as her felt the softness of her hair. He could not, and would not, restrain himself from sighing in contentment.

Margaret's legs nearly gave way to the warmth of his breath on her ear. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him tightly.

Thornton pulled her back to look at her. Just then, a single tear fell from her eye and landed on the middle of her cheek. "Margaret?" He suddenly thought his actions were too forward, but was relieved by her bright smile.

"I would have never expected this evening to turn out like this. I was quite prepared for the worst, you see." She smiled at him with gaiety. He responded with a smile of his own, one that showed a dimple on the right side of his face.

Wiping away the escaped tear, Thornton placed a kiss where his thumb glided. Margaret shivered at the warmth of his lips on her skin. Before she knew it, his lips captured hers. He kissed her with the same tenderness he had in his eyes when he looked at her. She melted into his embrace. The room around her faded as she closed her eyes and deepened the kiss. His hands gripped her with desperation. Her hands became lost in his hair. They held on to each other as if they must. Without knowing it, both Margaret and Thornton were afraid of being woken from this dream.

Propriety did not register until she heard the chatter of the guests down the hall.

Aware of their circumstance, they regretfully untangled themselves from each other. Thornton placed a soft kiss onto her swollen, red lips. Kissing her hand, Thornton left the study, without the book he had originally sought out to find. Margaret felt her warm cheeks with the back of her hand and fell onto the chair.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I'm sooo sorry it's taken me over a month to post this. School is absolutely kicking my butt. I'll try to be much better about updating, I promise. I know this chapter is a little wonky, but I wanted to get something out there for those of you who actually like the story. I'll go back and fix mistakes when I have a minute. Let me know if you see anything I should change! Thank you so much to everyone who follow/favorite/review. You guys are the best, and I'm so glad I did this. You make it worth my while. Please let me know what you think! Muah! -Sav_

Margaret stood quietly by the fire and watched as the flames crackled and swayed. Her breathing became normal after a few minutes alone, but they quickly started up again when her thoughts were brought back to the previous events. John Thornton. How everything has changed, she thought.

"Margaret, are you well?" Asked Fanny who stood in the doorway with a concerned expression.

"I am quite well, thank you, Fanny." She smiled at her ignorant friend. "Shall we return to the party?"

"If you are quite ready! Super will be in a few short minutes. Your father is wondering where you are. Although, I must say, he does not seem very concerned by your absence."

"That's alright, he has a lot on his mind. He most likely thinks I've wondered off to the garden. He's not scornful of my frivolous activities." Margaret blushed softly to herself at the thought of her father knowing her most recent activity.

"Well, if you're sure. We should be getting back before anyone else notices. Perhaps you can engage in a debate with John. He's in rather high spirits. There's a good chance he won't say something ridiculous." Fanny rolled her eyes at her brother's behavior, but quickly shifted into a gleaming smile. She took Margaret by the arm and led her through the house. Once they entered the room, Margaret forced herself to not seek him out. Her efforts were in vain.

Thornton approached immediately and offered Margaret his arm. "Fanny, Mother was looking for her. I suggest you find her. I will bring Miss Hale back to her father."

Fanny rolled her eyes once more but reluctantly left her friend.

"I hope my father was not too worried." Margaret said looking down, not meeting his gaze. All too quickly Margaret felt a rush of shame for her actions. Her accusation, her rudeness, her inexcusable behavior.

"Not at all. I provided you with a most seamless excuse." He watched her expression become surprised, then worried. He smiled to himself and followed her gaze to the floor. "I told him you were with Fanny. He understood me, I'm sure."

"Oh, I see. Thank you, Mr. Thornton." She felt his arm draw to his side, forcing her closer to him.

"Now Margaret, I dare say we are too familiar to use such formalities."

His deep, hushed tone made Margaret shiver. Her heart leapt at the thought of his open affection, but quickly plummeted when she remembered herself. There were too many factors that restrained her from him, and she must respect them.

"Mr. Thornton-"

"John."

"John, may I speak with you alone? There is something-" She was cut off by the sound of a bell. Super was ready.

"Please hold that thought, Margaret. We will speak after super, I promise you." He brought his free hand to hers that lay on his arm. He squeezed it gently, and then released it to an approaching Mr. Hale. Thornton escorted his mother to the dining hall while Fanny was on the arm of Mr. Watson.

Super went on with the conversation dictated by the gentlemen and an occasional comment by Mrs. Thornton. Careful to avoid the topic of the strike, the men tried to speak of non-business related subjects. This lasted only but five minutes.

"I say they won't last more than two more weeks. I don't see how they can." Said one man with a suit too small for him.

"They have made it this long. Who's to say they don't have some means of work underground? They could hardly make it when they were earning money. There's not a chance they are surviving on nothing." Said another, sipping from his third serving of wine.

"Gentlemen, you forget the union. The have means of support." Said Watson with distaste.

"That isn't there only form of support," piped up Miss Ann Latimer. "Margaret, I heard that you bring baskets to the families in Princeton."

The table silenced and looked to Margaret. Instead of fear, irritation rose within her. "You're right, Miss Latimer, I do. However, I can hardly feed all of Princeton with a basket. It's for a friend of mine who is ill. In fact, her sickness is due to the unsafe conditions of the mills."

Several men coughed and exchanged looks between each other. Who was this woman, and what gave her such entitlement? Ann Latimer exaggerated her shocked look and turned towards Thornton. His face was unreadable.

"Well, Miss Hale, then are we to assume that the mill owners do not have your approval?" Mr. Watson spat.

Several men snickered at Watson's question. Margaret's courage was fleeting, but before it was gone, she responded: "One does."

The men shushed once again and their eyes flickered to Thornton. Her gaze was direct and she smiled softly. For the first time since the conversation began, Thornton removed his eyes from his plate. His eyes snapped to meet Margaret's. Before anyone could utter a word, she defended her statement.

"To me knowledge, Mr. Thornton is the only master that has installed a wheel, am I correct?"

The table remained silent.

"Am I also correct to say that this wheel improves the working conditions?"

Again, no one spoke. The room continued to look at her in surprise and disapproval. She picked up her fork and restarted at her meal. Eventually, everyone did the same, and conversations started again. They did not discuss the strike.

Mr. Thornton did not remove his eyes from Margaret. He watched her in complete awe and adoration. No one, especially no woman, had ever silenced the men of the mills on their own subject. He fought the urge to proclaim himself in front of the whole party. Like Margaret, his mind had not stopped revisiting the hour before. If only he could rewind time and relive those few seconds over and over.

Soon, the sexes separated into their designated rooms. Margaret sat along side Fanny but said nothing. The only thing Margaret could think of was her impending conversation with Thornton. The privacy of it excited her, but the reason for it made her stomach knot. She would have to tell him that she could no longer see him, and that tore her very heart in half.

"Margaret, may I ask you something?"

"Of course, Fanny."

"What do you think of Mr. Watson?" Fanny's brow came together and sat furrowed on her face.

"I do not think I am the most qualified person to ask, Fanny. My opinion is most likely ill conceived based on prejudice." Margaret stated blankly. She stared forward, nothing particular in her view.

"I ask you because I believe you to be the most level headed person I know. Your opinion is the only that I trust."

Margaret looked up to Fanny's face and smiled. "Why do you ask me of him?"

"I ask you because he made his intentions clear to me this evening. He is rich, to be sure, and the match would be most advantageous. But Margaret, I cannot come to believe that I could ever love him. Not in the way I so desperately hope for. What if such a love is not meant for me? Am I doomed to eternal misery with a man who provides money instead of affection?" Fanny slumped back into her seat with a deflated expression.

Margaret considered her words carefully. Her influence on Fanny was important in this moment, and a single word could lead her astray. "Fanny, there is no guarantee marriage. One can never know if they will be truly happy with someone, only God knows that. My advice to you, Fanny, is to get to know Mr. Watson before you make your decision on him. Let him prove to you his affection with actions instead of words. That should be the basis of your choice."

"Margaret, I do not know where I would be without you. Probably married!" Margaret and Fanny laughed merrily with each other as they were led to rejoin the gentlemen.

As they entered, Margaret saw her father standing alone by a table with finely laced cloth. He seemed to be studying the pattern of the stitching. She smiled at him and took his arm. "How are you, Papa? Are you enjoying your evening?"

"Immensely, my dear. I dare say that super was the most interesting part of tonight." He playfully raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips. She grinned shyly and squinted her eyes in a challenging manner. She saw a tall, dark figure to the right of her and caught sight of him. He stood with Fanny and Mrs. Thornton while people continued to shuffle in.

"How much longer should you like to stay, Papa? I'm sure you're getting tired."

"Not much longer. There are a few things I would like to discuss with John before the evening is through, but they can wait until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Is Mr. Thornton coming for a lesson then?" Margaret felt her heart quicken.

"Indeed. When you vanished from the party, he told me how much he missed our talks. We decided that resuming our schedule would be good for him."

Before Margaret could reply, Thornton walked towards them. "I hope this evening was enjoyable for the two of you. I'm very sorry Mrs. Hale could not make it. Her presence was missed."

"Thank you, John. Margaret and I are very glad you invited us. I'm afraid our days as of late are filled with silence and rain. Your resuming visits will surely bring light back to them."

Thornton smiled fondly at his friend. He turned to Margaret, offered her a knowing smile, and turned back to her father.

"John, it's been a lovely evening, but we must be getting on. Margaret, did you see where I placed my gloves?"

"No, Papa." She said looking around her.

"I'll have a servant help you look for them, Hale."

As Mr. Hale went off in search of the missing gloves, Margaret was left standing with Thornton by the lace covered table.

"Mr. Thornton-"

"Margaret, please, call me John."

"John..." She said slowly, relishing the liberty she would soon be taking from herself. "John, I need to speak to you."

"Would it happen to be about earlier?" He asked with a crooked smile.

"Actually, yes. I wanted to apologize for my behavior."

"There is nothing you need be sorry for, nor do I wish for you to be sorry. That would mean you regret it."

Margaret opened her mouth to speak, but choked on her threatening tears. She dropped her head down to her hands and fiddled with the hem of her sleeve again.

"Do you, Margaret?" He said sadly. His eyes followed hers to her hands. How he wanted to calm her fidgeting fingers.

"No, John, I do not regret it. But I feel as though I should. There are many reasons to put an end to this-"

"Margaret, it's hardly begun. I don't care for any reasons you may come up with. If you're afraid, I understand. I'll do anything in my power to make you feel secure. However, if it's a matter of your feelings-"

"There is no question as to how I feel about you." She interrupted. His face broke out in a wide smile.

"Then there is no question as to what will proceed."

Margaret's head snapped up to meet his gaze. Her heart pounded against its confinement. Her response was hindered by her hand being brought to his lips in one smooth motion. After she was released, her father appeared behind Thornton and gave him a slap on the shoulder. "Well, I cannot imagine how my gloves were placed in the entrance hall, but your servant Jane was most helpful. Margaret, are you ready?"

Unable to speak, Margaret simply nodded and followed her father to the door. Thornton trailed behind and watched her with amusement.

Once they were gone, Thornton returned to his guests until the last of them were sent away. He spent the rest of his evening in his study and went over the evening in detail, with one specific moment in mind.


End file.
